‘Have you lost it? Or have you been drinking, is that it?’
‘What do you mean “drinking”?’
‘You shouldn’t be calling me. Not with things being the way they are.’
‘Well things are only the way they are because you want it like that.’ He pauses. ‘Are you still there?’
‘Listen, we can’t work together because of what went on between us. You know that, right?’ She waits. ‘Well?’
‘We can’t work together because you seem to think that it’s all right to go putting our business out where everyone can see it.’
‘I don’t have anything to hide.’
‘Certain things are private, Yvette. Don’t you realise how bad you’re making yourself look?’
She laughs. ‘I don’t believe it, you have been drinking, haven’t you? You know what, why don’t we just pretend that this phone call never happened?’
‘Why don’t we pretend that things between us never happened? That’ll make it easier for everyone. I mean, this is all messed up. Where do you get off telling people that I’ve been harassing you?’
‘I’ll tell you what’s messed up, Keith. The fact that if I don’t pretend that this phone call never happened then I’ll have to tell my solicitor and it’s going to sound suspiciously like you were bullying me. So just go to sleep and leave me alone, all right?’
‘So you don’t see us working together again?’
‘Get a grip, Keith. It’s gone way too far and you know it. Maybe if they gave me a settlement of some kind then I’d leave, but according to my solicitor they won’t. It’s easier for them if you step down because it doesn’t cost them anything.’
‘I see.’ He pauses. ‘Yvette, why are you doing this? We got on just fine, didn’t we?’
‘Women don’t like being dumped, or didn’t anyone tell you that? Maybe I’ve saved some other poor sod from feeling used and then chucked.’
‘You weren’t used and you weren’t chucked. Things end, Yvette. That’s just life.’
The phone goes dead. She has hung up on him, so he closes the phone and puts it down on the glass-topped table with a click. Then he picks up the tumbler of wine. He knows that he shouldn’t have called her, but at least he’s sure now. He knows where he stands.
Annabelle opens the door. She is still in her dressing gown, and she looks him up and down as though he is a salesman who is attempting to press some unwanted household products upon her. His former wife simply shakes her head.
‘You look like shit, Keith. You’re not taking care of yourself, are you?’
‘Yes, well I didn’t come around here at eight o’clock in the morning for your opinion on how I look.’
‘Really? Well, I didn’t open the door and expect to find a vagrant on my doorstep. So, are you coming in?’
She moves to one side to let him pass, but he does not move.
‘Well, are you coming in or not?’
‘Is Laurie here?’
‘He’s asleep. Come on, I don’t want to talk to you while you’re outside.’
He moves past her and into the kitchen where he sits on a tall stool by the breakfast bar.
‘Why didn’t you call me yesterday? I left messages. In fact, by the end of the day I was worried sick.’
‘I know, it’s my fault. I should have called you, but my mobile needed charging.’ Annabelle sighs, and then she pulls out a chair and sits. ‘And there’s something else.’ She pauses. ‘Look, Laurie got himself in a bit of bother with some boys from school.’
‘What kind of bother?’
‘Shoplifting. I had to go and pick him up from Mr Hughes’s office. Don’t worry, I gave him a pretty serious talking to, but he claims that it was all a big mistake, and maybe it’s true because the school let all of them off with a warning.’
‘All of them? How many kids are we talking about? You make it sound like something out of Oliver Twist.’
‘Five or six, according to Mr Hughes. Look, maybe you could try getting through to Laurie again. He’s staying at home and revising today, so why don’t you come back in a few hours and maybe take him out for lunch. But for heaven’s sake, smarten yourself up a bit.’
‘You know, Annabelle, sometimes you’re not real. Laurie is hauled into the headmaster’s office and accused of shoplifting, and all you want to talk about is how I look?’
‘Mr Hughes is worried about him.’
‘And I’m worried about Mr Hughes.’
‘And given how you look, I’m worried about you. Did you get any sleep?’
Over the past three years, Annabelle has mastered the art of irritating him with a well-placed comment, or even a look, and he has had to teach himself carefully how not to rise to her bait. He takes a deep breath.
‘Look, Annabelle, we’re talking about Laurie. This could be serious, okay?’
‘I’ve been trying to tell you for some time now that there’s a problem. Laurie’s getting by with his work, but no more than that. But those kids he runs around with, I don’t like it. Mr Hughes confirmed to me that some of them are binge drinkers, buying their cider and their alcopops by the case and puking up in the street every day. Jesus, they go to school either drunk or hung over, and you know these kids can buy the stuff twenty-four hours a day in the supermarket and it’s cheaper than fizzy water. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing Laurie to his so-called friends. I can’t fight it alone and quite frankly you don’t even seem to be trying.’
‘Annabelle, I’m hearing you, and I am concerned about him, but I’ve got a lot going on, okay? And, to be honest, you know what I think about Mr Hughes and that school. Most of the kids there learn by downloading information from Wikipedia and all the teachers do is just help them to organise the facts that they’ve gathered. Don’t you remember when he was doing his GCSEs, and the Religious Studies teacher showed them Spiderman because it was about “making choices”, and then The Nutty Professor because it was about “prejudice”. I mean, what chance do the kids stand if their headmaster lets teachers get away with lazy crap like that? Hughes is full of it.’
‘But it doesn’t matter what Mr Hughes says, it’s me Annabelle who’s telling you that Laurie is in with a bad set. I’m sorry, but those kids that he fraternises with are just not our type of people, and I don’t mean anything by it but I can’t put it any simpler than that.’
He looks closely at her and begins to shake his head.
‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’
‘I’m serious about my son and his welfare, and to my mind that’s all that matters. I’m sorry, but I wish I sensed that you feel the same way. I know you’ve got a lot going on, but I don’t think that I can deal with his attitude by myself for much longer.’
He stares at her and swallows deeply. Then he silently counts to five. Are these really her opinions? ‘Our type of people’? He hasn’t seen or heard of Bruce in a while, but he assumes that the film editor is still in the picture.
‘I’ll come back later for Laurie. Just tell him to be ready, okay?’
As he climbs from the stool and turns to leave, he can feel her eyes upon him. He knows that she will say nothing further. She has said enough.
Laurie looks bored as the London Eye first hoists, then spins them skyward with its slow circular movement. His son stares down at the pod beneath them where a group of city businessmen are tucking into crustless sandwiches and champagne that is being served to them from a large hamper by two pretty young women in white aprons. Apparently, his son seems to think that the corporate outing is more fascinating than observing the tight switchback patterns of the River Thames, or looking out at the vast panoramic sprawl that is south London. However, now that they near the top, Laurie finally deigns to look interested in the view and he points to the newly refurbished Wembley Stadium in the north.